RePeter
by lololol3971
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is not who he appears to be. He is a wise, powerful, and cunning wizard firmly on the side of good. He allows Lily and James to survive taking Harry with him to raise. How will Harry turn out, raised by the strongest of the Mauraders? Pairing: Harry/Fleur/Undecided. Harry-centric, trying not to bash too much.
1. Prologue

**AN: Hey guys. You may remember me as the author of Harry Potter and the Equalists and Vengeance, but if you haven't read them, good. They were both trainwrecks.**

**But I have good news. I have finished applying to college, writing a _bunch _of different essays, and what do you know? I got into one of them! You want to find out which one? Too bad. Seriously though, this is an anonymous account, I don't want to tell you where I'm going to college. Anyways, that's my life, you don't care about that. But here's what you do care about. After writing a bunch of different essays, I now know how to write ... ish. It's still not perfect, but it's a hell of a lot better than before. Seriously, that was cringe-worthy. But who knows. Maybe in six months, I'll think this one is cringe-worthy too. It's all about becoming a better writer.**

**Anyways, I decided to scrap both of them because I think it's too cliche, so here's my newest fic. It's called RePeter. Why? Because I wanted to make a pun? Partially. But also because I want you to repeat everything you know about Peter Pettigrew. Yeah, okay, it's mostly the pun.**

**Summary is posted, so I won't bore you with reading it twice.  
**

**And lastly, I'm trying to stay away from cliches, and I don't think I've ever read a fic with good Peter, so I thought, why not? Also, no major bashing, maybe just a little bit.**

**RePeter**

**Prologue**

It was a cold October evening in Godric's Hollow, in fact, it was the coldest of the month. A foreboding bolt of lightning brought one of the tallest trees in the small town crashing down to the ground in one single blow, and the resulting crack of thunder resonated for many miles. Although it was a Halloween evening, children were not out trick-o-treating for obvious reasons. The town was very small, with less than five hundred residents, and was therefore a closely knit community. Everyone knew everyone in the town, by name, street they lived on, and social circle. And Godric's Hollow had a semi-open secret. Their town was haunted.

There was a specific region, which al of the townspeople could never go. No one could remember the building that lay there, but they knew that a young couple and a child had moved in. The Potters, they were, and both the parents and the child were nice enough, but very strange. They did not socialize with the rest of the residents of Godric's Hollow, besides the simple "Good morning" or "How are you doing". But one day, the residence simply vanished.

At first, no one noticed that the largest house in the region was gone. It wasn't until two weeks later, when the mailman came to deliver something to the Potters that they realized they no longer knew where the Potters lived. And so a couple of the town's members scoured the area until they found a patch of empty land. When they tried walking toward it, they both suddenly forgot it even existed. In fact, it was only the fact that one of them had written the address of the house next door down that they even realized it was there afterwards.

The message was clear. Get too close to the haunted house and you forget that it exists. And it was clear that there was a house there; throw a stone into the clearing and it would bounce back after impacting with something that was unseeable. So the tale of the missing Potter house spread throughout the town, and as it spread, further rumors also spread. There was one that said the Potters were working for the devil, another that said the Potters were spies from the government. But the one that was closest to the truth was that the Potters were sorcerers in hiding.

This tale was almost true. For the Potters were not sorcerers, but wizards, and they were hiding from a dark wizard. Voldemort was his name, and he was the most powerful wizard of the century probably; his powers matching up to the legendary Albus Dumbledore. The Potters were hiding because of a prophecy, one that said Voldemort's equal was their son, Harry Potter.

But on this particular evening, the safety of the youngest Potter was far from the Potter's minds. No, today was about ... making more Potters. The Potters were a young couple, but both James and Lily were mature enough to raise a child, and had the assets to do so from the Potter vaults. James was a head auror in the Ministry of Magic, and fought crime, while Lily was a researcher in the Department of Mysteries. Both of their jobs, coupled with Harry's childcare left little time for fun, and these such occasions were rare. The Potters had asked their close friend, Peter Pettigrew, to look after Harry for the night, and had rented a hotel room that would serve their purposes.

Inside the house, Peter was a bundle of nerves. He knew that today was the day in which Voldemort was going to strike, and that the ritual had to be perfect, or it would not work. Peter's plan was to use young Harry Potter to temporarily stop Lord Voldemort, and the best part was, Harry was perfectly safe. Peter had always been a cunning boy, but his moral compass was firmly pointed toward good rather than evil. He joined the Order of the Phoenix in order to fight against Lord Voldemort, but when he found out how ineffectual the order was, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Pettigrew decided to join Lord Voldemort, and when the time was right, strike back against the evil man and save a large number of lives. It wasn't hard convincing the dark lord that he was on his side; after all, he looked somewhat pathetic, sulking in his friends' shadows. Or at least, that was what he wanted them to think.

Peter was a fairly short man, but he was not as fat and as athletically instable as he wanted others to think. He had been putting glamours on himself, and generally playing the part of a stumbling buffoon in order to allow his enemies to underestimate him. This transferred over to school as well. Peter was a skilled practitioner of both the Dark Arts and the Light Arts, and could easily beat Bellatrix Lestrange at her peak, let alone James Potter. But he played the part of a terrible wizard, and it had its advantages; Voldemort never asked him to go on a raid or gave him the Dark Mark. Peter was able to easily convince him otherwise.

Peter was able to manipulate himself into the position of Secret Keeper by planting seeds of doubt in Sirius's head, telling him that he would be the first target of Voldemort, and nobody would suspect Peter to be the Secret Keeper. He felt a bit sorry that he was about to betray his friends like this, but of course, it had to be done. He honestly did feel a sense of companionship with the other three Marauders, but he knew that they looked upon him differently because of who he pretended to be. He wanted to change that eventually, wanted to take part in some of the glory of Voldemort's downfall.

The ritual when set up properly would drain Voldemort of his magic temporarily, leaving him defenseless for a short time period, during which Peter could Avada Kedavra him. Harry was perfectly safe, as any spells that hit him would be absorbed in a small pendant that Peter placed onto Harry, which, when Harry was sitting on the ritual power base, would transmit energy through the system in order to power the ritual. It was a foolproof system. Peter placed Harry onto the bed and called Lord Voldemort.

He groveled a bit with the terrible man, and then led him up the flight of stairs to Harry. As long as Voldemort was in the room, the ritual would work.

"Hello Harry Potter," Voldemort said menacingly. "It has been a while, hasn't it, since I saw your mother and father. Where are they now? I would enjoy playing with them."

An infant of Harry's age would normally have some sort of reaction to Voldemort's statements. Not Harry. Harry simply stared the dark wizard in the eye, as if he was telling the man to get on with it. Even Voldemort was a bit unnerved by the fledgling wizard's intense gaze.

"Very well, I see you're not in the mood for games. Shame, you would have been a powerful fighter on my side." Voldemort drawled. "AVADA KEDAVRA" he yelled, as loud as he possibly could.

Peter marveled at Voldemort's stupidity; it was only his sheer power that kept him alive. Why in the world would you say the curse. Silent casting was much more effective. Of course, there was the intimidation factor, but that was unimportant when casting on a child. Yet not a lot of what Voldemort did made sense, and Peter could tell that he was not a very smart man.

The green beam of light sped toward Harry and for an instant Peter was frightened that the ritual wouldn't work. The spell hit Harry on the forehead, but instead of being absorbed by the pendant, it was somehow reflected in all directions around Harry, a great green sphere of death. Peter, in an act of sheer brilliance, was able to apparate out of the room, but Voldemort was not so lucky.

The dark lord was killed by a child.

When he deemed it safe to return, Peter clambered back up the stairs and checked on the situation. It seemed that Voldemort had been killed without the use of the ritual, and Harry was unharmed. Well almost unharmed; he had a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Peter did a cursory scan on Harry and realized that a dark presence was within the scar. He knew that Dumbledore would do nothing about it, preferring to take the natural road and let the dark presence clear itself out, and that James and Lily would listen to Dumbledore, so his only option would be to take Harry with him. He knew he had to be in hiding because he would seem like Harry's killer. Destroying all evidence of the ritual but leaving Voldemort's ashes, Peter apparated out, taking Harry with him.

**AN: Well, how was it? Good? Bad? Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: I didn't receive any questions in the reviews, so I guess I'll just throw some more info. Updates: sporadic. No real schedule, you may not see me for a few weeks at a time, or I may update the day after I post something. Basically, whenever I finish a chapter, I edit then I post. If I haven't updated for over six months, you have my permission to take the idea and do with it what you will.**

**And you know what else? Peter is one character who I've somewhat admired over the course of the books, as he's a cunning little bastard, and I like to think his sacrifice in the last book really shows personal growth. But there's someone else who I've admired who's generally not really been that well liked by everyone in the Harry Potter fan department. So this person will be somewhat non-canon. Don't hold your breath because, you'll find out waaay later. And it's not Voldemort or Snape if any of you are wondering.**

**Also, I'm a fan of modern technology, so I'm setting the story as Harry's first year is in 2007.**

**RePeter**

**Chapter One**

The Forest of Ashwood was one that was not easily breached, and once inside the forest, survival was no guarantee. From large fires which over time, the trees had grown a resistance to, to packs of werewolves and vampires alike, for any wizard who respected his life, the forest was not a place to be.

In his lifetime, Lord Voldemort had made three attempts at breaching the forest, yet had failed all three times. In the first, he entered the forest, then immediately exited when he witnessed a pack of centaurs brutally consuming a still-alive werewolf. This was back when Lord Voldemort was still Tom Riddle, of course, and while heartless, he lacked the stomach to witness such brutal and violent attacks on an intelligent being. The second and third times ended in a similar manner to the first, and Lord Voldemort was unable to use the forest to his advantage. The residents of the forest were not that dangerous by themselves, but by working in packs or covens, werewolves, centaurs, wood-elves, vampires, giants, and other terrifying creatures were able to instill fear onto any wizard foolish enough to enter the area. The small area in Albania was home to a remarkable number of different magical species, ranging in intelligence and potency of magic and physical prowess. A war between the wizards and other allied magical creatures would be bloody and devestating for both parties, so the Albanian forest is sequestered off. If wizards don't go in to kill other magical species, they would not retaliate. That was the implicit agreement that was made between both parties.

However, while undead, Voldemort lacked a body, and while he could still be tortured, he could not be killed, meaning that it was perfectly possible for him to enter the Albanian forest that had once eluded him. While there were magic entrapment runes that the wood elves (who fed on magic and magic alone) used to capture their prey, Voldemort knew the tell tale signs of such traps, and as such, would be able to avoid them. At first it was hard to avoid all the dangers of the forest, and on numerous occasions, Voldemort found himself at risk of losing his magic. But the forest gave his mind a refuge, a place to wander free. And Voldemort realized what a fool he had been all along.

He had always been a power hungry egomaniac, and that hadn't changed. But a few years in isolation did wonders to Voldemort's psyche. And he found that his powers in the mortal realm were not as limited as he had previously thought. He existed in a state similar to that of a ghost, but different in multiple ways. The first was that he had a method of teleportation, and was able to get from one place to another instantaneously, something that ghosts, to the best of his knowledge, could not do. The second was that he had a small control over objects in the physical world. He was also able to turn invisible and choose to be unseen. The only person who he thought bore any resemblance to him in terms of magical ability was Peeves, the poltergeist of Hogwarts.

These benefits to his state allowed him to travel outside the forests of Albania and act the role of a spy. Of course places could be warded against the admittance of foreign magic, which most locations in the wizarding world were, but the Muggle world wasn't. And in the Muggle world, Voldemort learned a great many things.

Voldemort had never had a hatred for Muggles specifically; rather, he had a hatred for the weak and the stupid. Voldemort cursed himself for his stupidity; the Muggles that he had once called weak had access to technology that wizards simply could not compare to. Voldemort was able to visit a collection of professors from different Muggle universities, and consume all of the knowledge these men and women had, and had a basic understanding of all fields of science when he was done. He realized that Muggles were far from weak, and in their knowledge, held more power than most wizards. If the Muggle world found out about the wizarding one, all they would have to do would be to target nuclear missiles toward every wizarding center in the world.

But Voldemort vowed to never let that happen. No, he wanted inclusion of every single race, from human, to elf, to goblin, to troll, to dwarf, to werewolf, to all sorts of other races there were. He wanted each and every one of the intelligent species on the planet to interbreed until they produced the next generation of organisms, not humans, but something superior. He wanted inclusion of all of the traits from each of the dominant species to create a new class of men and women that would be strong in magical prowess, incredibly smart, physically gifted, and have new magical skills. And he knew he could do it. If he had control over both the Muggle and the Magical world, he could begin so many research projects. Why do dragons breath fire? Why do trolls have such tough skin? How do werewolves survive the Avada Kedavra? All questions that would be answered by him, and then implemented in human kind. And after a few generations of selective breeding to eliminate squibs, he would have a superior race. He would be the most glorious leader known to mankind, and he would be immortal. He would be like a god.

But first, he had to get himself a new body, and to have any major influence on the wizarding world, it required possession of someone inferior. Unfortunately, possession was one of the few acts that required consent, and none of his death eaters were trustworthy. That was, at least, until one of his newer recruits, right before he died, Quirinus Quirrel, wandered into the forest in search of vampires.

Voldemort didn't know if the man had a death wish, or if he was just plain stupid. But the man seemed to revere Voldemort, and was willing to be possessed by his undead lord. It was even better that the man had just taken up the defense post at Hogwarts. Finally, Voldemort had some measure of control over the wizarding world.

He was going to make his death eaters pay for abandoning him, then he would kill everyone who stood in the way of his dream. Because really, he wanted the best for the world, and he knew that he was going to achieve it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Kings cross station was one of the most crowded train stations in all of England, all of Europe in fact. Situated in the middle of London, the train station was able to carry passengers to all over the relatively small country, and even across the channel to mainland Europe. But on one particular day, it was more crowded than it was on any other day of the year, September 1st.

No one could explain this phenomenon. The number of tickets sold was around the same as any other day, yet every year, the station was unmistakably more full than on any other day. And some of the characters who showed up were weird, carrying around owls in cages.

Of course the wizards who visited the large train station knew why it was so crowded. For on September 1st, every year, the Hogwarts Express left to Hogsmeade, the surrounding town of Hogwarts.

Inside the Platform 9 And 3/4, the checkoff point for Hogwarts bound students, was one of the most crowded stations of all. There were probably over five thousand people in the station, and the large train seated over five thousand students due to the expansion charms on the inside. Hogwarts was a relatively large magical school, with an exceptionally large number of students as it was the only school that serviced magical England. However, lately it was on the decline; fifty years ago its halls contained over 5000 students, but due to the devastation that war had brought, that number was now down to about 2500 in the coming years.

2007 was no exception, and on September 1st 2007, the train station was packed. Parents were fretting over children checking if they had everything they needed or outright sobbing over the fact that their child would be gone for another few months. Children were excitedly racing into the train searching for compartments and their friends, first years and seventh years alike. Though the school was big, there were designated seating sections for each of the houses and each of the years, thus making it fairly easy for the students to find their friends. Yet amidst all the hustle and bustle, a man and his son were calmly walking from the station toward the train.

"Got everything you need?" the small man asked. He was about 5'7", and was easily shorter than most of the adults in the station. And yet his stature was imposing almost; the way he carried himself upright with pride and dignity allowed him to not let his height hinder him, and it was clear that the muscled tone of his body and his quick instincts allowed him to be a formidable foe. He was dressed in a simple leather jacket and jeans, Muggle clothes, but with a clear bulge in his pocket, it was obvious that he was a wizard. All in all, the man was attracting some stares as he walked across the platform with his son in tow.

He was, of course, Peter Pettigrew, and still carried a few of his older aspects, including his dirty-blond hair, but he did lose a majority of the fat on his old body (of course, that was never really him in the first place).

Accompanying the man was an equally striking boy, but instead of the rugged "cowboy" look that his father donned, he instead carried an air of elegance, somewhat. With dark black hair and bright green eyes, the boy's face and overall body carried an aristocratic look to it. He looked like a Potter, but similarly did not, as he was much taller than James was at his age; at 4'8" tall, he would definitely be one of the taller ones at Hogwarts. He was dressed in fairly simple Muggle clothes, with a V-neck shirt and jeans, but carried himself with a strong sense of confidence. He was not wearing glasses, and was carrying his trunk with ease.

This was, of course, Harry Potter, but now he went by Harry Grey, as did his father, Peter Grey. He would play the part of a wizard simply from a lowly halfblood family, that was unknown in the political scheme, and would rise up from there.

"Of course, father," Harry responded, a statement that could have come off as cold if anyone else had said it, but Harry added a personal warmth to it.

"Good," Peter said. He looked left and right before holding Harry and whispering to him "Remember, while _they _think you are dead, they will still cling on to any hope they might have that you are alive, and the fact that you look like James will not help matters. Just try to keep your identity a secret. Once Voldemort comes out, then so can we, but for your own safety, as well as mine, stay in hiding."

Harry rolled his eyes, a juvenile gesture and for a moment breaking the aristocratic mature look on his face. While Harry was mature, he was still only an eleven year old and as such, there was only so far his maturity could go. Peter rather liked Harry's immature moments like this one, as it reminded him and Harry that he was a real person, not some perfect robot. "Yes father, you've told me that a thousand times."

"Alright," Peter said, a bit annoyed, yet understanding all the same.

After giving his father a last wave goodbye, Harry boarded the train, and settled on an empty compartment in the middle of the first year section. He kicked his feet over to the other cushioned side of the compartment, pulled out an advanced transfiguration book, and began to read.

_Simple transfiguration theory requires very little on the part of the caster, but the will to transform. However, post-primary transfiguration, such as permanent transfiguration, requires a significant understanding of the mathematics and physical science behind the casting. Fields of magic such as permanent conjuration, permanent transfiguration, permanent vanishment, semi-permanent human transfiguration, and animagus transfiguration require intense study in the fields of mathematics and biological, chemical, and physical science. These Mundane breakthroughs have lead to our own magical breakthroughs in the study of transfiguration, and before reading this book, we recommend that you gain a working knowledge of the aforementioned subjects, for understanding of every single change that is being made to the atoms and molecules of the transfigured materials is the difference between conjuring a lovely harp, or blowing yourself up._

Harry continued to read through the first few pages of the book. It was all a bit advanced even for his tastes, as this curriculum wasn't even taught in Hogwarts due to the amount of required Muggle math and sciences, which Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the board of governors looked down upon. He knew all of the math and science necessary for the book; his father had made certain that he get a strong mundane education as well as a magical one. From the age of five, he started his magical training, dueling against his father, and learning elementary transfiguration, charms, and potions. By the time he was on his fifth page, the door of the cabin opened.

A somewhat small (for his age) boy with short blond hair entered the compartment, glancing over it briefly, then giving a long stare to Harry. Harry looked up from his book, and saw the boy scrutinizing his features, glancing at the title of his book, before giving a small "hmph" and walking off. It seemed he either failed to capture the boy's interest, or scared him off, though the latter was unlikely. The boy seemed to be cunning and cautious, a definite Slytherin.

Harry was about to go back to his book, when this time, another boy entered the compartment. With a warm smile on his face, the somewhat tall redheaded boy extended his hand in greeting, saying "Hi, I'm Ron. Mind if I sit here?"

Harry was at a crossroads. Although he didn't want to be asocial, he really wanted to finish the next chapter of his book. His decision was made for him when the boy, without getting an answer, decided to sit down. Pulling out a sandwich of sorts, that looked somewhat disgusting, he started munching, and in between bites, added in "What's your name?"

Harry was both repulsed and intrigued. The boy's manners were deplorable, so he was definitely not a member of the upper-class purebloods, and yet he was wearing wizarding robes, meaning that he was probably wizard-raised. With trademark orange-red hair and many freckles, only one English family fit the description. The Weasleys.

"I'm Harry. Harry Grey," he responded, in a friendly tone.

Ron's ears perked up as he heard this. "Grey, as in Gandalf the Grey? Are you related to him?" Ron asked. Gandalf was one of the greatest wizards of all time, on the same level as Merlin and Albus Dumbledore. He fought with honor and dignity, yet had an immense amount of cunning and ambition, was very loyal and extremely intelligent. Overall, he represented everything the founders respected.

"No, I'm a halfblood, but my name has Muggle origins." Harry said. Immediately, a small fire within Ron's eyes diminished, and a small spark of interest was gone.

"Oh, well that's cool I guess. Are you wizard-raised or Muggle-raised?" Ron asked.

"Wizard," Harry replied.

"Nice. So, what's your favorite Quidditch team?" he asked.

"I'd have to say the Bats, though I'm really a fan of Pudd as well. Do you play?"

"A little, I'm not that good though," Ron modestly replied. "I really like the Cannons."

"The Chudley Cannons? Are you kidding? They went 0 and 38 last season." Harry said.

"Trust me, I know they're going to make a comeback soon. And when they do, my autographed Quaffle is going to sell for huge money." Ron said.

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Harry replied.

Harry found that he was really liking this Ron kid, despite what his initial impressions were. He realized that Ron was a connection to an ordinary wizarding childhood, one that he did not have, and Ron would help him realize that sometimes, he just needed to be a kid.

After a while, the conversation died down, as Ron was content eating his sandwich and distractedly drumming his fingers on his right leg, while Harry was fully absorbed in his book. They were both in their own worlds, and yet, the company that the other provided was not discouraged. This would be the start of a friendship.

When the train had almost reached the Hogsmeade station, a bushy-haired girl entered the compartment, the fourth person to do so, after the blond, Ron, and of course Harry himself.

"Have you seen a toad?" she asked. "A boy named Neville's lost one."

"No, I haven't. Why don't you try and get one of the older-years to summon it for you?" Ron asked.

"It's not that simple, Ron," Harry replied. "First of all, a toad is a living creature, and therefore has some level of ambient magic. By Gandalf's third law of magical equilibrium, all forms of life are able to repel magic to an extent. Since the summoning charm in of itself is a very low-powered spell, it would take a very high-powered summoning charm to be able to latch onto the toad. That's why summoning spells aren't used in duels; they would be very magically taxing, or you could just summon the opponent's heart from their body and be done. Secondly, in order to cast a primitive summoning spell, one must have the knowledge of where the object being summoned is. Since we have no idea where the toad is, the spell would be useless. Of course, there are more advanced spells that would do the trick, but they go beyond the scope of Hogwarts curriculum. And finally, the toad would need to be brought back here through a wide range of compartments. Hell, we don't even know if it's on the train. If there is a shut door somewhere along the way, assuming the first two contentions were invalid, that would be a very painful experience for the toad."

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "I didn't know you were a bookworm."

"Really, I've been reading this book all day. You've really just figured it out." Harry said.

"Well then, it seems that I have a fellow academic. Kudos, for pursuing the intellectual side." the girl replied, "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger," Ron mimicked in a high-pitched voice. He muttered under his breath, but loud enough to hear, "Pompous, arrogant brat. Another Percy, by the looks of it."

Hermione turned to Ron, then to Harry, who discretely gestured at his nose. She turned back to Ron, and replied, "You know, you've got a bit of dirt on your nose. It's right there."

Ron scowled and wiped his nose off. "The name's Ron, Ronald to you. That's Harry Gray. You think you're all high and mighty don't you. Well I bet you don't even know any magic. I probably know much more than you. See, my brothers Fred and George, taught me this spell."

"Oh, you're going to be performing magic then. Let's see," Hermione said.

Ron pulled out a rat from his coat pocket. "Very well then," he said. He cleared his throat and pulled out his wand in an elaborate fashion. "Sunshine dasies butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

A spark flew out of his wand before striking the rat, the equivalent of a simple stinging charm. All it did was make the poor rat screech in shock.

"Is that a real spell? Well then it's not a very good one, is it?" Hermione quipped.

Harry had to say, he found the back and forth commentary between Hermione and Ron to be quite entertaining. Hermione's condescending tone coupled with Ron's insensitive attitude provided them a natural source of friction, and while Ron was putting down blatant insults, Hermione's were more subtle. It seemed that Hermione was winning this small fight, as Ron had no substance, merely words.

"Of course, I've tried a few spells, and they've all worked for me. For example," Hermione said, taking out her wand.

"Wait, hold on. You got to use magic?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, haven't you?" Hermione replied.

"No, you're not supposed to use magic outside of school until you turn seventeen." Ron replied.

This of course was an easily breakable rule, the equivalent of underage drinking in the Muggle world. Yes, if you got caught it would be bad, but it is impossible to get caught if you do it at home, especially considering the fact that in magical residences, practicing magic at home is perfectly legal. Nonetheless, the Weasleys were very strict about these types of things, so Ronalds attempt at a spell was his first.

"Oh. Well, they'll have to let me off since I didn't know the rules," Hermione smoothly replied.

"Are you sure? I heard last year the same thing happened, and someone got expelled for it. Frank Peterson, I believe, a Muggle-born like I'm guessing you are. My brothers were telling me about it. They'll call you out during the sorting ceremony and then shame you in front of everyone. Then your wand will be snapped, your magic bound, and you'll be a Muggle again." Ron said.

It was obvious that this was a complete lie, as Muggle-borns were allowed to do magic discreetly before their first year of Hogwarts, to keep them at par with halfbloods and purebloods. However, Hermione seemed to buy it.

"Harry, is that true?" she asked.

Part of Harry wanted to deny what Ronald had said, as it was arguably the right thing to do, but a small prank like this one was harmless. "I don't know whether they'll do it to you, but yeah, that's what I heard. It's pretty rough, they have zero tolerance of underage magic, unless of course, your life was in danger."

Hermione looked like she wanted to cry, but pulled herself together. Harry felt bad, so he decided to speak up. "Relax Hermione, we were just joking around."

Ron had come to his senses too, and while he didn't like the other girl, he didn't want her to cry. "Yeah, relax Granger." he said in a soft tone.

"I see." Hermione said flatly, cursing herself inside for letting herself get pranked like that. "You two best change, the train is stopping soon."

After the train had come to a stop, the entire process of exiting took place, and the full twenty-five hundred students came out of the magically expanded train. The large group of first years walked, following Hagrid, to a set of boats, and as they rowed across the lake, Harry got his first glimpse of Hogwarts.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The edifice was complete with high towers and beautifully decorated windows. In the night, the castle could be seen clearly by moonlight, and the light coming from within the castle radiated perfectly through the lake. Overall, the place gave a medieval vibe, but was probably built long before then. Wizards, after all, had architecture and technology before Muggles for all of history all the way up to the 1940s, the rise of Grindewald, who tore down magical society bit by bit.

The large group of students entered the castle, debating on what the sorting was going to be. Ron was going around, telling everyone that you had to fight a troll. Hermione said it was going to be something much more sensible. Harry didn't know what the sorting was going to be, as Peter refused to tell him. On the walk there, he made the acquaintance of one Daphne Greengrass, an interesting girl with an aloof personality. At first glance, she seemed cold and calculating, but she agreed to discuss with him the chemical process of boomslang skin and its involvement in potion making, and conversing with her just became easier from then on. he could tell that she, like Hermione, was an academic, but she was also quite humble about it, once her cold facade melted away.

Anyways, the group headed over to the Great Hall, and the Great Hall was, well, great. The tables were magically extended such that the entire hall could seat over three thousand at a time, and each table held at least seven hundred students. The first years were told to line up, single file, in alphabetical order, which was very hard to do, as there were just so many of them. Eventually, Harry stepped in to try and organize the chaos by grouping each letter together. And he was perfectly situated behind Daphne, as her last name was Greengrass, and his was Grey, so they were able to continue their conversation about different potions ingredients. Conveniently enough, Hermione was right in front of Daphne, so she was able to chime in from time to time.

Harry looked up at the staff table and saw both of his birth parents, James and Lily Potter. James had been hired as a Defense professor, and Lily as a Charms professor. There were, of course, more than one professor per subject, and there was more than one class offered for each subject. Lily taught first through fourth year students, while James taught fifth through seventh. It was common knowledge that the elementary defense section was cursed, as no teacher had lasted more than one year in the same position. Presiding over the head table was Albus Dumbledore, in a chair that seemingly resembled a throne, ornately designed. He turned his attention to the center stage, at which an older professor was carrying a stool, with what appeared to be a very old hat.

"What do you think that is?" Harry whispered to Daphne.

"I'm guessing it's involved in the sorting," Daphne whispered back.

Daphne's conjecture proved to be correct, as the apparently sentient hat burst into song.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff__,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

After the song, the older students burst into applause while the younger ones stood bewildered. This was how the sorting was going to be done? A hat? They felt jipped!

The older woman then began calling out names and placing the hat on their heads. While Harry still thought that the idea that sorting should be done by a hat was stupid, the hat evidently was very intelligent, and he would love a chance to study it.

Harry was shaken out of his reverie by Hermione's sorting. She placed the hat onto her head, and seemed to be discussing something with the hat. Eventually, the hat yelled "RAVENCLAW", and Hermione sullenly walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

Daphne was next, and it only took a few seconds before the hat called out Slytherin, and she headed over to her table with pride. It seemed that Daphne's cunning was more important than her intelligence.

After Daphne came Harry, and he put on the sentient hat. Immediately he felt a foreign presence pushing down against his Occlumency shields. Harry had enough talent in Occlumency to know when someone was attempting to enter his mind, and he immediately closed his eyes and tried his hardest to force the presence out. Eventually, the foreign presence pushed back and won the battle, then proceeded to rift through his memories.

"Let's see here," the hat said in his mind. "Occlumency is one of your many strengths, you seem very talented, Harry Potter, but you go by Grey to protect yourself and your father, interesting, interesting."

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"I? Wel, seeing as you have potential, I suppose that I shall tell you. I am not a single person, I am Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin." the hat replied.

"They're still alive?" Harry asked.

"Oh, heavens no. But I am a product of an extremely complex enchantment that grafted each of their personalities into me, as well as their talent in Legimency. The reason that you were so overwhelmed is that you were effectively trying to defend your mind against all four of the founders. The four of them together decide where to place a student, and I really have no idea where to place you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"For a genius, you seem fairly dull. I'm talking about the fact that all four founders would kill to have you. You have the cunning and ambition necessary for Slytherin, the intelligence for Ravenclaw, the pride, honor, and courage for Gryffindor, and the loyalty and work-etiquette for Hufflepuff. All in all, I don't know where to put you." the hat said. "I'll leave the decision to you."

Harry pondered for a moment. He decided to strike out Hufflepuff, as he did not know anybody there, and Ron would probably be going to Gryffindor so he knew someone there. Between Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, Harry was left in quite a bind. After thinking for a while, Harry decided to go with Slytherin, as he would enjoy hanging out with Daphne, plus going to Slytherin was good for his future career.

"Is Slytherin your final choice?" the hat asked.

Harry gave a confirmation.

"SLYTHERIN," the hat yelled out, and as Harry made his way toward the Slytherin table, he could have sworn that the hat gave him a makeshift wink.

After sitting down next to Daphne, Harry winked back at the hat, before engaging in another conversation with Daphne, this time over the permanence of "permanent charms".

All in all, he was quite pleased with his first day at Hogwarts.

**AN: And that's a wrap. Hoped you liked it everybody, and please review.**


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: So sorry for the late update. I don't really have an excuse, other than the fact that I was playing league of legends. It takes time to come out with these chapters, and they're very draining on a mental level. It's still fun to write though, so I'll just keep them coming as fast as I can.**

**Addressing reviews: **

**To Guest who wrote: "hey nice ploy but it's too much OOC for me to read the storty."**

**I'm guessing by ploy, (s)he meant plot, so I guess, thank you. As for the OOC, yes, this will be an AU fic, and yes, there will be OOC characters. Just putting that out there. The plot will still largely follow canon though, with the exception of the fact that Harry is a lot smarter and a lot more powerful.**

**To CuriousGuest, who interestingly enough is not a guest, who wrote: "I wonder how are you going to solve Harry's problem with Snape since Harry in the house of cunning can make a diffrence if the git causes troble."**

**Well, the Snape problem should be somewhat illustrated in this chapter, but keep in mind, in this fic, Harry was sorted into Slytherin and he doesn't have the last name Potter, which means that the only animosity that Snape should have with Harry is the way he looks, and his blood status.**

**To Kairan1979, who wrote "I don't see how Slytherin can be good for his future career, after all Harry Grey is a half-blood."**

**Considering how Tom Riddle was a half-blood Slytherin, and made incredible political and social connections through the house, I think that Slytherin values power, usually in the form of political or magical power. Therefore, purebloods with large political power are valued as well as those without political power with magical power.**

**ADDITIONALLY, PAIRING WISE: NOT SURE YET WHETHER HARRY/FLEUR OR SOME OTHER PAIRING THAT MAY OR MAY NOT INVOLVE FLEUR. While this is my fic, and ultimately, the final decision is mine to make, I would like to see your input on the final pairing of the story. Right now, nothing is set in stone.**

**Thank you for putting up with that rather long AN, now here's the story.**

**Chapter Two**

The head table of Hogwarts seated a diverse group of many of the most respected professors and researchers in all of England, hell in all of the world even, including one Quirinus Quirrel. The man's brilliance was only outshined by his quivering nature; indeed, he was one of the foremost experts on charms theory yet could barely speak to his students without throwing up. It was therefore no surprise to the Hogwarts staff that Quirrel returned that year more afraid than ever. They had been confused, after all, when he had chosen to go to Albania and take a year off from teaching, and when he got back, his request for the cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts position was even stranger. But they just chalked it up to the man's eccentricity, after all, a man that brilliant does deserve a vice, and so the position was his. He was obviously very qualified to teach it, but his magic simply wasn't as strong as his theory, and he could barely handle the NEWT material, which is why he chose to teach the younger years.

What the Hogwarts staff did not realize was that Quirrel was a host for Lord Voldemort; indeed, who would suspect a stuttering timid figure to be the receptacle for one of the greatest Dark Lords in history. Much like Peter Pettigrew's weak and powerless act was simply a facade for his more cunning nature, Quirrel too was more powerful and much more confident than he let on; it was simply best for him to be underestimated, so that he could better serve his Lord. Quirrel was no fool, he did not serve out of blind devotion like the crazies, including Bellatrix Lestrange, no he served for his own future. Because Quirrinus Quirrel had a secret, a dark secret that no one, not even Lord Voldemort knew.

He was a vampire.

Well rather only half-vampire. The muggle tales of vampiric qualities could not be further from the truth. Vampires lacked the vulnerability to sunlight, crosses, and holy water that are found so often in trashy romance novels or horror stories. They were merely creatures that with enough blood and barring any outside interference could live forever, without eventually succumbing to disease and decay, the fate of the mortals. Additionally, humans could not be converted into vampires by a single bite; that was preposterous, something that was unique to their gnarly mutt cousins, the werewolves. No, vampires were born the traditional way, and Quirrinus Quirrel was half-vampire, half-wizard.

His people once lived in peace amongst wizards and the rest of the magical races, but the wizards got greedy, and began taking over and killing or enslaving all of the members of other species. The once mighty goblins were forced to handle the wizarding banking systems, the dwarves forced to work in the mines, and the elves forced to serve wizards and witches as handservants. They were the lucky ones. Dragons, sentient creatures that had language and could be understood by those with the dragon-tongue were forced into servitude and eventually became the attractions of wizarding zoos. As for the horst of other magical creatures, death or exile were the only two options. And exile was straight to the forest of Albania.

Quirrel was a smart man, and he therefore could not blame the current wizards for what their predecessors did, but that still did not change the fact that he wanted equal rights for every magical creature. Which was why he aligned himself with the Dark Lord; the man wanted power, and Quirrel honestly couldn't fault him for that. Especially after hearing the Dark Lord's updated goals, Quirrel believed that supporting the Dark Lord would help him achieve his goals overall, which is why he agreed to allow the man to possess him.

Possession honestly wasn't all that bad, as long as he cooperated. The Dark Lord only had power within his body that he gave the man, whether he realized it or not, and he was able to take control of his own actions. It was as if his body had merely adopted the Dark Lord's soul within it, allowing Voldemort to see what he saw, and have a limited amount of motor control of his body.

And as he gazed at over the batch of first year students, a tall green-eyed boy with jet black hair caught his eye. McGonagall calling out the name "Harry Gray" was the last straw.

"Master," Quirrel said in his mind. "We may have a problem."

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On the other side of the staff table, a heated, but hushed discussion was going on between the two Potter professors: Lily and James.

"James, I'm sure that's him," Lily said.

"Lily-flower, that can't possibly be Harry. I mean, yes, that's Harry, but he can't possibly be our Harry." James replied.

"Well why not? They never found a body. It's possible that someone took him before." Lily said, in a hopeful tone.

"Lily, I don't want you getting your hopes up. We have no idea what happened that night, all we know is that Harry and Voldemort were both nevermore. As much as it pains me to say, Harry Potter is for all intents and purposes dead. And even if that is Harry out there, what are we supposed to do? We didn't raise him, he's not our son." James gently chided.

"Well fine. I still think that's Harry out there," Lily said. "The fact that his name is Harry, plus his green eyes and black hair, and he shares your facial structure. Plus, he's also Harry's exact age. How can that not be Harry?"

"It is true, he does share many resemblance to the both of us, and the name. Hmm, I don't want you getting your hopes up, but I'll ask Albus if he can poke around a bit inside the boy's mind. I know it's a bit unethical, but that may be Harry out there, and I don't want to take any chances." James deftly replied.

"As much as I hate that tendency of Albus, I think it would be best for now. Why don't you tell him, and meanwhile I'll observe Harry and see what he's up to." said Lily.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

In the middle of the staff table, another conversation was underway, this time between Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm telling you, he's a Potter. His scent reeks of it," Snape said.

"Now now, Severus, don't be hasty. We can't be sure that Harry Potter's the one sitting there." Dumbledore cautiously replied. "Don't play me to be a fool; I too noticed the similarities. Identical facial structure between him and James Potter, Lily's eyes, the same name. And therefore I took a preemptive peek inside Harry's head. What I found was an absolutely ordinary childhood with a mother and a father."

"But Albus, don't you see? This could be an elaborate plan by the Dark Lord. Maybe he took the boy and raised him as his own in order to strike the wizarding world just when it was rebuilding. Think of the poetic justice, the hidden child, the savior of the wizarding world, actually alive and serving the dark side. And he covered it up with a few fabricated memories." Snape conspired.

"Severus, don't be ridiculous. That sounds like a cheezy B-grade novel with a large group of plot-holes. Obviously the Dark Lord would not have done that, you and I both know that he would never share power," Dumbledore responded. "And besides, I checked for fabrications on the way in. It was clearly authentic, thus this is not Harry Potter."

Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Quirrel had drawn the same conclusion after peeking about in the boy's mind, and realized that there was no way this could be Harry Potter.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry Potter, or Gray as he was now called, of course noticed the intrusions of both Quirrel and Dumbledore, and fed them fabricated memories without a hitch. He had been training his entire life to refine his Occlumency and block out such intrusions, and although both Dumbledore and Quirrel were powerful wizards, neither dug very deep into his mind. He was sure that in an actual mental fight, he would have lost to the two of them, but in simply feeding fabricated memories, he was king.

The way legimency worked was that it did not look through the hippocampus, where memories were actually stored. Rather, it triggered the drawing of memories from the hippocampus to the working memory, but only subconsciously. A legimens could rift through someone's mind very quickly, or could search for a specific memory by hijacking the subconscious and asking for a specific memory from the hippocampus, leaving the person unsuspecting. Of course that was if the victim was not a trained Occlumens, like Harry was. Harry was always on alert, with his proximal shields being up, which meant that he notice any legimency coming his way. Even Voldemort could not be stealthy enough not to trip Harry's security system.

Once a mental bridge was created, which did not require connection through the eyes, as that was a misconception, the action that Harry would take depended on the aggressor. Normally Harry would force feed torture memories to the Legimens while scoping out his opponent's memories, thus putting himself at the advantage, as not many people can hold their mental fortitude under the Cruciatus curse. After thumbing through his opponent's mind, he would block off the connection on his side, but still leave it open on his opponent's side and engage in magical combat. Harry would have a distinct advantage because he would be able to read his opponent's thoughts.

But as he did not want to initiate a mental fight between Quirrel or Albus Dumbledore, and instead wanted to play the role of an innocuous boy, he instead fed false memories of a different life that were so realistic that both of them bought it.

"Harry, Harry, you okay?"

Snapped out of his reverie, Harry looked up and saw that Daphne was looking at him in concern. Apparently, while they were thumbing around in his memories, Harry had been solely focused on blocking them out, and therefore had his eyes closed in spot. Looking up, he saw Dumbledore look back at him with an apologetic glance, as if he thought that Harry had figured out his mind was invaded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said.

"You sure mate? You seem mighty down," another boy, who Harry had previously learned to be Blaise Zabini, responded.

"Yeah, it's cool. So, what were you saying about the potion master?" Harry said.

This started an argument between the members of the table, some of whom thought Severus Snape was a brilliant instructor, and others who thought he was an idiot. Harry personally thought the latter from what he was told by the upper-years, especially considering his inflated ego. Harry himself had set his goals on becoming a future potions master, but certainly did not want to apprentice under Severus Snape.

Harry hadn't had any problems with his blood-status as of yet. He explained that no, he was not of any relation to Gandalf the Gray, and while normally the community would have gone against him for being a half-blood, his sheer knowledge as demonstrated with quick conversations with his peers proved that he was a formidable wizard regardless of his importance.

After the feast, the troop of first years marched down to the Slytherin dungeons under close examination from the fifth year prefects. Harry immediately found out that his room would contain him, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Draco Malfoy.

Blaise, while pure-blooded, was not from an important family. However, his mother had married and subsequently widowed six Lords of somewhat powerful houses, taking the Lordship and passing it on to Blaise, who Harry understood, actually carried his mother's love. Therefore, Blaise would be poised to inherit a vast fortune with political influence similar to that of Draco Malfoy.

Draco was also pure-blooded, and Harry figured that he liked the boy the least out of the Slytherin first-years. That is not to say that he hated the boy; no, it was just that he was pompous and expected Harry to, as a half-blood, be inferior to the rest of them. Additionally, he was of the opinion that Slytherin was the superior house and that interacting with members of the other houses was a waste of time. He had two pet bullies, Crabbe and Goyle, who Harry thought honestly needed some remedial education before they could even attempt the complicated magic that went on at Hogwarts. While Draco was not of the opinion that half-bloods should be eliminated, he absolutely hated Mudbloods. Harry assumed that this was based on the influence of his father, and Harry was looking forward to turning Draco's pureblood supremacy on his head in subsequent coursework.

Theodore Nott was the quiet one of the group. On the outside he put on a cold and aloof personality, similar to that of Daphne Greengrass except more vindictive. However, Harry quickly found out not to underestimate the boy. Nott had spent his whole life training under his father, who was on the run from aurors. How did Harry know that? Nott had foolishly attempted to read his mind, and once he had tried so, Harry had no qualms about going on the offensive himself while locking Nott into one of his torture memories. The incident granted Nott great respect for Harry, and as a result, the two chatted about the dark lord and his future return. Theodore was not foolish enough to believe that the dark lord was truly dead, but he was certain that once he came back, his father would immediately join the lord. However, he was not all that sure about his own obligations. He had nothing against Muggle-borns, and did not believe that they should be eliminated, much like his father did.

The four roommates quickly went to sleep, eager what their first day of classes would bring.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Three weeks had passed since that pivotal first day of school, and Harry was already bored. Yes, he knew what his birth-father had been saying to all the first-year students: it was impossible to get bored at Hogwarts. And he supposed that if he continued pulling pranks just as his birth-father did, he probably would not be as bored. While Harry enjoyed the good prank or two, he didn't consider pranking to be like a pseudo-religion.

He was fairly certain that neither James or Lily Potter suspected him of being their son, and this was likely due to the probe that Dumbledore had sent him. But he was able to develop a sense of camraderie and basic friendship with his parents. While he did not have his father as a defense teacher, as that honor went to a professor Quirrel, his father had not lost his pranking spirit, and as a result enjoyed messing around with the first year students. In the evening meals of the second day there, James decided that it would be a funny to have all of the students turn into giant canaries, and with the help of his two minions, Fred and George Weasley, was able to add a special potion to all of the drinks. Harry, of course, being ever-paranoid for the presence of such potions, always checked his meals with his wand to make sure that they were untampered with, and when he found that his drink was potioned, Harry decided not to drink with the meal. The potion was a delayed reaction, so the entire student body was unaware of the fact that they had been poisoned, the teachers as well. As such, every single professor and every student as well turned into a large bird. All except for Harry Gray - and James, Fred, and George.

What resulted was an all-out prank war between James and Harry, throughout which Fred and George were forced to pick a side. It seemed that Harry had a sixth-sense regarding pranks, and was turning into a budding prank king himself.

Eventually they called a truce, to the relief of all of Hogwarts, which then turned into terror as they set their sights back onto the student body. No one really minded the pranks though, it was all harmless fun in the end.

Lily, on the other hand, Harry developed a more academic relationship with. While she wasn't really the pranking type, the two could talk for hours about potions, transfiguration theories, and charms itself. Harry felt that he was filling a void in his life while talking to Lily; as James became somewhat of a mentor, but Harry never did have a mother figure in his life, up until now. It would be perfect to be Harry Potter; James and Lily seemed like perfectly balanced parents. But Harry knew that his path was for the best, as he did have a father in his life, Peter.

Professor Quirrel's class was interesting, to say the least. He could tell that the man was hiding something behind his stammers. It was all too practiced; it seemed all rehearsed, as if he wanted himself to be underestimated. On a basic level, however, Quirrel seemed very intelligent, but also very weak magically, as he failed to deflect even the simplest jinxes and curses from the first years. Overall, Harry was not all that impressed with the defense curriculum.

Transfiguration was ... interesting, to say the least. The class would be alright for a first year, however, Harry's knowledge extended that of a typical first year, and he could already do NEWT-level transfiguration. What made it better was Professor McGonagall; she seemed very intelligent in the subject, and allowed Harry to do whatever he wanted in her classroom, and granted him access to the restricted section of the library after finding out his true transfiguration prowess.

In fact, it seemed that their wasn't a teacher that wasn't impressed with the young Gray, except for, of course, Severus Snape. The man had called him to his office on the second day of Hogwarts.

_"I know who you are, Potter." Snape said._

_"I'm afraid that I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Harry said, his heartbeat rising._

_"Oh, you may have Dumbledore convinced, and the rest of the staff along with him, but trust me. You're a Potter and I will treat you as such."_

Of course in public, Snape couldn't help but show blatant favoritism to all of the Slytherins, including Harry. But in the common room, Snape did all that he could to make sure that Harry was not having a good time. Additionally, Snape had done all he could to try and break the tentative friendship between his godson, Draco Malfoy, and Harry. Unfortunately for Snape, Draco, having found out how powerful that Harry truly was, was willing to do anything to try and gain an alliance with Harry, including putting up with Harry's other friendships, including one with Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.

The two could not stand each other, however, ever since their first scuffle on the train. Harry was beginning to think the two were acting like an old married couple with Hermione's continuous nagging, and Ron's return quips. The two shared charms class together, and that was where the two really fought. Ron was obviously fairly intelligent, with the way his chess-playing went, but was also very lazy, and did not want to practice magic or study theory when he could sleep, eat, or play chess. Harry remembered his first chess game against Ron. The boy had started off boasting about his chess prowess, but after a few strategic moves from Harry, he was playing on the defensive for the majority of the game, and eventually lost to Harry's superior tactics. After the incident, Ron demanded a rematch, and then another, and another, until the two were playing all the time.

Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, Blaise, and Daphne, four of the top five of their year, with second place going to Theodore Nott, decided to form a semi-competitive study group. Harry was, of course, miles ahead of the other three, but it did not hurt to review the basics, which in their case, was about third-year material. And occasionally Harry found something that he didn't know.

Harry was really the oddity of the first year batch, breaking the misconception that all Slytherins were evil. Seeing such a warm and kind-hearted person from Slytherin made many of the other houses reconsider their impression and broke the cold nature of the Slytherin house as well for the first years. In fact, even Draco Malfoy had started spending some time around Hufflepuffs, who he had previously considered useless, after Susan Bones had agreed to partner with him in Herbology in exchange for the reverse treatment in Potions. All around, the cliquey environment of Hogwarts had really come to fade in such a short period of time.

And Severus Snape was not happy with this.

Slytherins couldn't mix in with the rest of the population. They had to be their own entity, a strong group that hated all the rest and were hated by all the rest. Now the first years had the crazy idea that Slytherin was an open house. Slytherin was always the best; they could not interact with lessers.

Severus did not even begin to consider the hipocrisy of his statement, considering his close friendship with Lily Evans, a Gryffindor during her time at Hogwarts.

Though Harry was close with Draco, Daphne, Ron, Hermione, and Blaise, he found somewhat of a best friend and dueling partner in the form of Theodore Nott. Nott was the only one who was remotely close to Harry in terms of magical prowess, and Harry found that Nott only had one major goal in his life: to be stronger than his father. Nott Sr was one of the most formidable Death Eaters, besting even Bellatrix Lestrange in a magical showdown, and Nott believed that the only way that his father would accept his decision of not becoming a death eater is if he bested his father in a magical battle. Harry took Nott as an apprentice of sorts, as although Harry obviously was not magically powerful enough to take down Nott's father, he was much further than Nott in this regard. They still called each other by their last names, Harry as Gray and Theodore as Nott, but the friendship between them sas deeper than that which Harry shared with either Draco of Blaise. Harry knew without a doubt that Nott had his back, and vice versa.

Harry's friends, though, wondered why he hanged out with the boy. He was physically and magically scary. During defense class, when they were practicing "mock dueling", he went all out on a terrified Emily Moon, who proceeded to leave the room crying, even though they were simply using basic stinging jinxes that gave just a twitch of pain. Nott was also very quiet, and he disliked speaking for trivial matters.

Overall, the first three weeks of Harry's Hogwarts experience put him in experiences that he had never been through, challenges he had never faced. Before he was an academic, a fighter, somewhat isolated from the whole social group. Now, he was blending in as one of the most popular students at Hogwarts, with sets of friends from each of the houses.

It was a welcome change in Harry's opinion.

**AN: So, I don't really think this was my best work. I like dialogue and action scenes, but they require intricate set up, and this is one of those chapters. It may be a little bit boring, but it's not worth skipping over.**


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